The Rooster
by hazelmom
Summary: Toby battles his demons in an effort to save Sylvester. The whole gang is featured.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So, I started this before they got a ferret. I'm not changing it now. This is all pre-ferret material. This plotting on this show drives me crazy, but I love the characters. I hope you take the time to read. It should be 4-6 chapters. Sheila

**The Rooster**

The phone dinged again and Sylvester bent over it texting furiously. Then he straightened up and scanned the room. Toby didn't look up from his reading but he caught everything. Developing eyes in the back of his head had been the advice of an old psychiatry professor, and while he couldn't manage the actual mechanics of such an idea, he had learned to hone his other senses as well as quick glances in the direction of his subject.

Sylvester's actions were lost on the rest of the team. Walter was holed up on the 2nd floor with Gallo working an NSA problem. The problem was specific to Walter's skill set, and didn't require fieldwork so the details stayed with the two of them. Happy was in the back marveling at an old Indian brand motorcycle Toby had liberated from a junkyard. He'd been moving slow with her, knowing how fragile her trust was. The old classic motorcycle had been an inspired idea, and he liked reliving the look on her face when he wheeled it in the door.

"Lunch is ready!"

Toby smiled. The lovely Miss Dineen was still trying to civilize them, and her current efforts were centered around healthy eating. He put his book down and sat up. Ignoring her was not an option. She was singularly persistent. Plus, he had begun their relationship on a surly note, and he was determined to show her that he could be a good guy.

Sylvester was already in the kitchen peering suspiciously at the soup in the pot. "What is it?"

She looked up from the bread she pulled out of the oven. "Portuguese kale soup with Linguica sausage."

She headed up the stairs to roust Cabe and Walter and Sylvester made a face at Toby. "Do you think there's still some cold pizza in the fridge?"

"No way, sexy man. We are going to try the lovely fare that Paige made for us."

"I might be allergic."

"I am aware of all of your allergies, Sly. I go to all of your medical appointments with you, remember?"

"It looks healthy!" he hissed.

"There's sausage in it. You like sausage. You have it on pizza all the time."

"Well, there should be crust then and cheese."

"Smells good," Happy said grabbing a seat at the table.

"Hey you."

"You're looking at me again."

"Can't help it," Toby said. "You're particularly lovely today."

"You say that every day."

"And I mean it every day."

Sylvester looked from one to the other. "You guys are getting weird again."

Happy reached for the cooling bread. "How many hours?"

"129."

"I meant what I said."

Toby sat across from her. "I go 240 hours without making a single bet and you and I get to go on a date."

"Yup."

"The 240th hour happens at 3:30 a.m. on Thursday," Toby said as he took the buttered bread she offered.

The edge of her mouth twitched. "I'm generally free at that time of the day."

He fought a smile. "I know an all night diner that would be perfect for a first date."

"111 hours to go. Should we bet on whether you can make it?"

"Funny," he smirked.

An irritated Walter sounded from above. "I don't need fuel! I ate 6 hours 34 minutes ago. Had three protein bars. Should hold me another 5 hours 23 minutes."

Shoes landed on steps, and Toby grinned at a surly Walter following Paige and Cabe downstairs. "She's persistent, Walter. You gotta give her that."

"It's an inconvenient meal," he said dropping into a chair like a teen-age boy.

"We're not saving the world today, Walter. We don't have to push ourselves to the edge," Cabe said. "Besides, it smells wonderful."

"Thank you," Paige said as she began ladling up soup. "It's my grandmother's recipe."

Toby nodded at Cabe. "You can't tell us anything?"

"Wish I could, but it's need to know only."

"I don't like it when the rest of us are left out."

Happy leaned back. "Maybe, next time Cabe will have a case that requires one of our skill sets that leaves you out."

"Unlikely," Walter said as he sniffed the soup in front of him. "My skill sets are wide ranging. I can already do much of what you all do."

Cabe raised an eyebrow. "Come on, let's play nice. Everyone here makes a valuable contribution to the team."

"Yeah," Toby said as he sipped broth. "Especially since it's been established that you have the behavioral insights of a hamster."

Walter stiffened. "I've gained a lot of insight into behavior."

Sylvester's hip buzzed and he abandoned attempts at eating to frantically return texts.

"Really," Toby said placing his hat on the table. "Then I imagine you've noticed that Sylvester has been keeping a secret."

Everyone stopped eating and looked at Sylvester. His face reddened. "What! I can have secrets."

"Of course you can, son. Cabe's blue eyes focused on Toby.

"What kind of secret?" Walter asked.

Sylvester shrugged. "Nothing."

"It's not nothing. You've been texting with someone for three days. Your body language is always very tense when you're doing it."

"Mind your own business, Toby."

"It has to be someone we already know, someone that would trigger disapproval. Like a boy would do when deceiving a parent. You revert to adolescent behaviors when concealing these texts. I can see it in your face. Adolescence. Why the regression?"

Sylvester stood. "Shut up, Toby. You don't need to know everything."

"You're feeling threatened now, and again, I see regression- like you've been caught doing something naughty."

"Stop analyzing him, Toby." Paige said as she watched the tension build.

"Leave me alone!"

Toby closed his eyes. "The regression has to be related to history- your time as a boy. You're a boy living with your family. There's your father, mother, and your brother, Robert."

His eyes popped open. "It's Robert. You know that contact with your brother would trigger disapproval. Robert has been texting you."

Sylvester's breathing came in short bursts. "What if he has? He's my brother. I have a right to talk to my brother!"

Walter pushed away from the table and stood. "It's okay, Sylvester. Nobody's mad. We're just a little protective. The last time Robert was around, he got you into some trouble."

"What kind of trouble?" Cabe asked.

Happy narrowed her eyes. "Sylvester helped him with some algorithms thinking they were for his new business when he was really using them to steal credit card numbers. When the feds caught up to him, Robert had skipped town, leaving Sylvester as the only connection. It took a lot of fast talking to keep him from getting indicted."

"He sounds like a troubled man."

"He stole $43,000 and tried to pin it on his little brother," Toby said.

"Stop it! It was a mistake! I've been talking to him and he's really sorry. He got caught up in something and then he got scared. It could've happened to any of us!" Sylvester's agitation was unsettling.

Toby got up and started toward him. "Hey Sly, I'm not trying to upset you. I just don't think he's a good guy. Remember I'm the one that actually met him."

"He's my brother, Toby! You wouldn't understand because you were an only child. You don't know what it's like to have a brother."

"Actually, I thought I did."

Walter shook his head. "I can see Sylvester's point. The bond I have with Megan is unique. And it's been almost four years. Maybe, Robert is sincere about his change."

"And maybe, he wants to set up another scam."

Sylvester threw up his hands up. "This is why I didn't want to tell anyone. I knew it would be a problem. He's my brother! I have every right to talk to him and even forgive him if I want."

Paige moved over to Sylvester and put her hand on his arm. "Hey, it's okay pal. We're not trying to judge."

"He is!" He pointed at Toby. "He thinks I'm a kid. Always telling me what to do."

"I'm just trying to help."

"I checked, Toby. Robert's record in the last four years has been clean. Better than you can say. Your police record is as long as my arm."

"Don't deflect, Sylvester," Toby said softly.

"Then don't analyze me. I'm not a patient!"

"I think you oughta back off a little, doc."

"Really!" He turned on Happy. "You were around when it went down last time. Remember how we all had to scrape together money for a lawyer. Remember how close he got to going to jail. Remember how depressed he was afterward. I'm telling you that a guy who leaves his brother stuck in the middle of a scam like that doesn't change his stripes."

"You don't know that!" Paige tried to comfort Sylvester, but he pushed her away and grabbed his jacket. "I knew you were going to do this, Toby. I knew I couldn't trust you! Treating me like this is worse than anything Robert ever did."

"Hey Sly, I'm sorry. I just don't want to see you get hurt again."

Sylvester's response was to slam the door on his way out.

"Well, that didn't go well," Toby drawled.

"Ya' think?" Cabe shook his head.

"You shouldn't have upset him like that," Walter said.

"Trust me. There wasn't a gentle way to have this conversation. His defenses are up."

"Seems to me that you didn't have to embarrass him in front of all of us," Paige said as she sat down again.

"Paige is right. You screwed up." Walter paced for a moment and then headed for the stairs. "I'm going back to work."

"I thought you guys were going to back my play. Robert is a sociopath."

"Is that as annoying as being a narcissist?" Happy asked, glaring at him.

Cabe got up and filled his coffee. "I would expect better instincts in a behaviorist. You pushed him too hard. Parenting 101."

"I'm not his parent. I'm his friend."

"Okay friend. Go find him and make it right."

…..

It was late afternoon when Toby came back inside, wiping sweat off his brow. The rest of the team was seated at the table, and he could see the agitation radiating off them. "Hey, it's okay. I didn't find him, but it's only a few hours. I checked all of his hangouts. Let me grab my computer and I'll get his GPS. It'll just take me a minute."

Walter stood, hands deep in his pockets. "Don't worry, Toby. We already heard from him."

"Okay," he said slowly. "Then what's going on?"

Paige smiled. "Good news. We talked him in to bringing Robert here for dinner. It'll give us a chance to meet him and see for ourselves what kind of guy he is."

Toby narrowed his eyes. "Where's the "but" in your good news?"

"He's still nervous that you might say something to Robert. You know how you can be."

"Yeah, I know how I can be," Toby sighed. "Let me guess. I've been voted off the island."

"Just for dinner. We'll check him out. We'll get you all the details."

Toby scanned the room. "Who's idea was this?"

Walter looked around. "We voted."

Happy got up. "It wasn't much of a vote, Walter. We're a team. We don't do this to one another."

Walter shrugged. "I didn't know another way to get a chance to meet Sylvester's brother. Cabe's got good instincts."

Toby said nothing for a long moment. "Yeah. Maybe, the team doesn't need a behaviorist."

"Toby! Nobody is saying that." Walter started toward him.

Toby backed away. "I gotta go. See you tomorrow."

"Come on. Let's talk for a minute."

Toby was out the door before Walter could get there.

Paige closed her eyes and groaned. "I knew he would be mad, but he looked so hurt."

"You have no idea," Happy said. She glared at Walter. "We suck."

"Happy…" he said but she had stomped off to the back of the building.

Paige grabbed her purse. "If we're having guests, I'd better go shopping."

"He's a big boy. He'll get over it," Cabe said to Walter as he got up from the table. "Time to get back to work."

Walter made a face but didn't follow. For a long time, he just stared at the door.

…

"This is the best beef stroganoff I've had anywhere. Restaurant quality," he said shoveling in another mouthful.

"Thanks Robert," Paige as she smiled and returned her attention to her plate. She felt like she had to counter the blatant staring going on from the other members of the team. Robert had been unexpected. He looked a lot like Sylvester- dark haired with expressive brown eyes, but he looked like Sylvester would be as a thin, confident man who was strikingly handsome. It was unsettling.

Happy fixed him with a glare. "So, what brings you back years after you skipped out on your brother leaving him in a tough spot."

"Happy!" Sylvester looked mortified.

"It's okay, Syl. She's right. These guys have stuck by you all these years, and I ran when the going got tough. I'm just a little reticent to say much sitting across from a fed here."

Cabe looked up. "It's not my jurisdiction so whatever you got to say is off the record."

Robert sighed. "Good to know. The truth is that there isn't much to say. I got in over my head with a deal. Didn't realize how shady it was until I was in too deep and then I got scared. I didn't know that it would all fall on Syl, and when I realized I was really ashamed. Not my finest moment. It took a long time for me to find the courage to reach out to my little bro here, and I want to thank all of you for standing by him like you did."

"It's who we are," Walter said.

Paige looked down at Ralph who hadn't touched his food. "Hey, what's wrong Buddy? You love my beef stroganoff."

The boy furrowed his brows. "I miss Toby. He was going to show me card tricks tonight."

"He'll be back tomorrow."

Ralph looked around the table. "Why can't he be here now? Happy said everybody hurt his feelings. Do you guys not like Toby anymore?"

"What!" Sylvester said. "I didn't want that to happen. I thought he would understand."

"It's okay, Buddy. Toby's fine. He'll be back and we're all still friends with him."

Robert shrugged. "Really, it's my fault. I met Toby the first time I was here, and he really sort of intimidated me. I was just so nervous about tonight."

"Well, it's not going to happen again," Walter said looking around the table. "This was a one time thing. Toby is part of the team."

"He's family," Happy said.

"I'm such an idiot. I mean, I'm mad at him, but he's there for me all the time."

"Sylvester," Cabe said. "Don't worry about it. You'll see him tomorrow, and the two of you will work it out. Case closed."

"Gosh, I sure didn't mean to cause trouble," Robert said slowly.

"Never mind. Tell us what brings you to L.A. these days."

"I got a new job…with a non-profit. Syl, I bet you never thought I would say something like that."

"It's really cool," Sylvester said with a smile. "It's called Alana's Resources, Inc. They help low income people get medical equipment for transplants."

"Yeah, it's great. We focus on kidneys. We recycle home dialysis equipment and other transplant resources. When a loved one dies or gets a transplant and no longer needs their equipment, we can buy and pass it on to a family that might not have the resources to get it without huge financial burden. It really feels good to be part of something like this."

"How do you find your clients?"

"Well, we used to be able to buy transplant lists. We're a non-profit. They should just give them to us, but laws have changed, and we no longer have access even with money. We do the best we can with our marketing and that helps some. That's one of the reasons I am in L.A. In order to survive, we have to expand our marketing base, and so I came west."

"Very interesting." Walter was unable to disguise his interrogation.

"It's legitimate. Seriously. You can check us out."

"We will."

"Walter," Paige said. "This is no way to treat a guest."

"Ah, my apologies," he said unable to make eye contact with anyone.

"It's okay. Syl told me it might be rough, but you guys have been there for him, and I am really glad for that."

"Isn't this great!" Sylvester beamed. "I got my brother back!"

"Yeah, it's great," Walter said staring down at his plate.

…..

The smell in the warehouse was a combination of smoke, sweat, and tequila. For Toby, it was the essence of gambling. The vices of men rolled up in desperation for the big win. This wasn't Toby's normal hunting grounds. In fact, he made a distinct promise to Walter that he'd never travel this road again, but his heart was a complex instrument. The fact that they'd pushed him away triggered abandonment issues that started even before he had memories of a bi-polar mother who was too obsessed with her own mania to care for her own child. Like an alcoholic who hunts the bottle when his pain becomes too great, Toby was reaching for his drug. Only this time it wasn't just gambling, it was self destruction as well.

He leaned against the wall of the warehouse, his fedora low on his forehead and did his best to fit in as brown skinned men speaking Spanish milled about arguing furiously about the upcoming fights. His back pockets were filled with cash- the grand total of what was in the temporary housing he called his bank. His eyes darted back and forth from the pens to the fighting ring. He wanted to act now, but that was just his compulsions. He needed a plan- it had to be more than just a suicide mission. His actions had to have actual meaning.

…

"He seemed like a good guy to me," Paige said as she handed a wet dish to Walter.

He dried it absently. "Hmm. A normal who thinks he's smarter than he is. Contrite. Self-deprecating. Pleasant. What does it mean?"

"Maybe nothing. Maybe, it's just the truth."

"Toby would know."

"But he wasn't here, Walter."

Well, we kept that from happening, didn't we?" Walter threw the dishtowel down.

We'll have other chances, Walter. Chances to know Robert better and chances to make it up to Toby." She reached over to touch his shoulder, but she imagined he'd flinch so she pulled back.

Cabe came in the door wearing a leather jacket and jeans. "I dropped Robert and Sylvester off at the hotel. Apparently, there is some kind of old school video game tournament they want to have. Undoubtedly, it will go through most of the night. Hopefully, Sylvester bets on these games. I'll like to see him clean his brother out. No way a non-profit employee gets put up in a hotel that swanky."

"You don't trust him then?"

"You're kidding, right? Please tell me you guys didn't buy that cock and bull story he shared?"

"He was nice," Paige said.

Walter narrowed his eyes. "How do you know, Cabe?"

"He tried too hard. He oozed sleaze."

"Oozed? I saw no oozing."

"It's a gut thing, Walter. You lack a gut."

Cabe smiled as Walter took a quick look at his midsection before closing his eyes as he realized that Gallo was talking about instinct.

Happy came storming in the room and grabbed a remote, lighting up the big screen. "I pinged him. Look where he is!"

They peered at the screen. Cabe looked at Happy. "This is Toby, right?"

Walter shook his head. "He promised he would never do this again."

"What? What the hell are we looking at?"

"Probably the diciest part of South Central L.A. Old Industrial park. Bunch of abandoned warehouses. Mostly gang run," Cabe said as he peered at the screen. "What is he doing there?"

"Fighting. Roosters or pit bulls," Happy said, eyes flashing anger.

Paige made a face. "Come on. Even Toby has limits."

"He doesn't bet," Walter said. "He says animal fighting is a stain on the good name of gambling."

"Gambling has a good name?"

"What the hell is he doing?!" Cabe said.

"He's disrupting the match."

"He's good at disrupting things," Happy murmured.

"By himself?" Cabe said, shaking his head. "That's suicidal."

"Last time they beat him so bad he was in the hospital for a week."

"What's wrong with him?!" Paige moved over to Ralph who was waking up from his spot on the couch.

"He's imploding. He does this," Happy said softly. "We really hurt him."

Walter grabbed his coat. "Let's go get him."

Cabe put up a hand. "No. I got this."

"We're a team. He needs us and we're going to get him." Happy headed for the door.

"No, I mean it. I got this. I got connections in the LAPD gang unit. They can get there 30 minutes before we can."

"Yeah, but I want to be there just in case he is still alive. I'm going to make sure he spends another week in the hospital." Happy's mouth was tight with anger.

Cabe blocked her at the door. "This is why I go alone. Sometimes, you gotta slow down before you dig a deeper hole for someone. You've all already said things you regret."

Walter patted Happy on the shoulder. "We'll handle this."

"We won't handle anything, Walter. Get upstairs. You have work to do. NSA job. Go finish it. I'll call you." Cabe gave him a hard look and headed out the door.

…


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Not used to so few people reading my work, but I am undaunted. It's a strange story, but I like it. I'm fascinated with Toby, and I love his big brother vibe with Sylvester. Plus, I love Quintis. Sheila

The Rooster

Toby edged closer to the cages. The cocks were restless, scratching at the wire and crowing their dominance. Observing animal behavior had been part of his training; something he'd always enjoyed. Animals were like people who lacked a self-conscience. They had no worries about how the world saw them. In many ways, it made them more civilized creatures than humans. From the time he was a boy, he'd always wanted a dog, but when he was young his mother denied him and now, he worried he wasn't responsible enough to care for an animal, especially one capable of placing trust in him.

These cocks weren't large and proud. They were small and rangy birds, trained to attack. Re-homing birds like this was almost impossible. They couldn't be socialized with normal chickens. Much like the issues that Toby and his friends had. The thought of allowing these people to force them to fight to their death rankled Toby's loose sense of decency. He focused in on an especially dark rooster in a top cage. He wasn't as aggressive as the others. There was something resigned about his nature. He huddled in the back of his cage, and plucked at his feathers with a scarred beak. He'd fought before. Toby could feel it. He was a winner, but he had no strut. Toby decided to call him Roscoe.

A boy nodded at Toby, and he returned the gesture with a tip of his hat. With the smoke bombs placed, it was only a matter of seconds. He brought his t-shirt up to cover his face and counted.

All three of them went off with a loud bang, sending dark clouds of smoke billowing everything. There were shouts, screams, and gunshots. Toby ducked. He should've counted on idiots shooting blindly. He ran along the cages, navigating by feel, and opened them grabbing at birds and pulling them out. The cocks were fans of this plan, and they scattered as if carefully briefed on their role in this fiasco. He finally got to Roscoe's cage, but Roscoe didn't want to leave. Toby reached into the back, coughing wildly as his t-shirt slid off his face, and pulled Roscoe out. He put him down, but Roscoe just nested on the floor. Cursing, Toby picked him up and tucked him inside his coat.

The smoke was settling enough for people to start to show up as dark, dazed forms wandering about trying to make sense of what was happening. A couple of forms pointed at him and shouted. Toby headed for the door.

Running had purpose only as long as a person had a destination. Toby was scrambling in directions he didn't know. Studying a map would've have the hallmark of a good plan, but Toby had been hurting too much to put much thought into this. He wanted to scratch an old itch, and when he'd heard some old gamblers talk about the cock fights, the temptation had been too strong. Every move he made was improvisation.

It was late at night, and most of the street lights in this neighborhood were out. The streets were dirty, littered with debris, and the whole thing had the feel of a war zone. The sounds behind him told him that it was more than two guys on his tail, and the gunshots that zinged past his head signaled a particular urgency.

Surprisingly, Roscoe gave him little trouble, and Toby almost forgot about the bird tucked under his arm. He turned a corner and looked for shelter. The crowd was going to catch them soon, and he needed a hiding place before that happened. There was a fence between two brownstones, and he bit his lip and ran for it. He stopped only long enough to hoist Roscoe over the top and then he scrambled up the chain link. For a moment, he flashed on how he wished Happy could see him move like the ninja she could be, but he suspected she would have nothing but disdain for this particular mission.

He dropped on the other side, scooped up Roscoe just as the crowd turned the corner. There was an old metal oil drum, and the two of them huddled behind it as the crowd of angry men went running past. He leaned against the brick building and heaved breaths, his heart beating fast. The rooster pecked absently at his coat.

Then the welcome sound of sirens erupted in the distance.

Toby smiled as he stroked his mottled feathers. "It's just you and me, pal. We made it."

"Aqui! Este es el pendejo!"

Toby turned and saw two men with sticks advancing on him from behind the brownstone.

…

Gallo approached the squad cars, lights still flashing, with his badge raised. "Hey Henderson, you got my guy?"

A brawny detective with a shoulder holster smiled and put out a hand. "Hey Gallo, it's been awhile."

Cabe looked around and saw cops standing around with upwards of twenty men on the ground in handcuffs. "Quite a little raid here."

"Your guy has done this before. He always calls it in before he wreaks havoc. We call him the Rooster. It's been a couple of years since he's done something like this. Thought he caught a case of sanity or something. Guess not. We'd prefer he not freelance but the results are always interesting."

Gallo noted the chickens ambling around a bag of feed strewn on the sidewalk. "You come prepared."

"Yup. Your guy likes to stage hostage rescues for the birds. Animal Control goes bananas over it, but it is what it is. We put out the feed and the birds stay in one place."

"He okay?"

"Oh, you mean the Rooster," Henderson nodded at an ambulance over his shoulder. "He's getting looked at. He says his shoulder is dislocated and he took a few fierce blows to the back."

Gallo winced. "All the potential in the world, and he's gotta act like a teen-ager when his feelings get hurt. I better go make sure he's behaving himself."

"Hold on a minute." Henderson put a hand on his shoulder. "The Rooster is an odd guy as I'm sure you know, but he's got mad instincts. He noticed that something was off with my partner, Madison. I've been trying to figure it out for weeks, and in two minutes, the Rooster has Maddy talking about his wife leaving him two months ago. It was weird. I talk to that guy for ten hours a day and Maddy never told me a thing about it."

"You mean to tell me that my guy isn't going to the hospital because he's gotta do a therapy session with your friend."

"He says he doesn't want to go. A few minutes ago, he was trying to convince the EMTs to help him pop the shoulder back into place."

Gallo sighed. "I've heard enough. This guy is the poster child for self destructive behavior and you just want to help him dig his own grave."

"Please. I am not the one who raids cockfights with no more protection than a good pair of sneakers."

…

Toby's brown eyes caught his, and then he looked away, and there was something in it that struck Gallo that this was not a sullen kid, but a man who, for all his brilliance, merely flirted with a sense of self worth. The annoyance of having to drag him out of a mess in the dead of night melted away as he saw Toby say something soft to the cop struggling with the loss of his wife while the cop nodded obediently in turn.

Gallo slowed his approach and allowed Toby to say a couple more things to the man, and then watched as the man blinked his eyes furiously and moved away to have a moment to himself.

"Hey Toby." It was all he could think to say.

"Did you have a good dinner?"

"Not particularly."

"Miss Dineen is a very good cook."

"Oh please, Toby, I'm too damn tired for games. You were right. He's a scumbag."

Toby straightened. "He showed himself."

"No, he didn't. The rest of them can feel it, but they can't see it. Sylvester is so happy to have his brother back he's ready to spontaneously combust with joy. The whole situation is a train wreck waiting to happen."

Toby chewed his lower lip. "I would undoubtedly make it worse."

"Probably. But they need you and they know it."

He looked down. "I just wanna go home."

"First, you go to the hospital."

"Don't need to. You, the correct angle on the pull, and a bottle of bourbon is all I need."

"Right. That scenario will make sense when L.A. becomes an apocalyptic wasteland. Until then, we'll settle for an ER and some Demerol."

"I don't like hospitals."

Again, there was an odd stir in Cabe's gut that told him Toby was more than just a spoiled whiz kid.

"It's not a negotiation. I will commandeer this ambulance myself if I have to and strap you in. You want to watch me do it?"

Toby sighed and his eyes settled on a cage at his feet. "Roscoe's coming along too."

…

His eyes opened blurry in the darkened room. He stirred and then moaned at the pain in his right shoulder. The door to the room opened and Cabe Gallo walked in a t-shirt and jeans.

"Is it morning yet?" He slurred.

"Three hours ago. You know how I know?"

Toby smiled softly. "Roscoe."

"And you slept through the entire concerto he put on in my living room. I had to apologize to about 37 neighbors."

"He won't crow if he doesn't see the sun. You should've left him in here."

"Silly me thinking you needed your rest."

"Why am I in your bed?"

"They really had to knock you out to get that shoulder back in place. It wasn't right to send you home alone."

"People will talk."

"Shut up, Doc. Let's roll you on your left side so you can get up. I'm hungry as hell and my fridge is empty. Let's go get some breakfast."

…..

Cabe's phone buzzed again and he picked it up in frustration. "This is the 17th text from Happy in the last two hours. She is like a dog with a bone."

"She's going to feed me my own liver, you know."

Cabe snorted. "You'll be fine. I'm armed."

Toby stared down at a pancake the size of his plate dotted with plump blueberries. "When I was a kid, I thought this was the gold standard. I used to dream that I'd wake up one morning, and I'd find my mother making blueberry pancakes for me."

Cabe watched him manipulate the pancake with one arm in a sling. "You mentioned once that your mother has bipolar disease."

Toby grimaced but didn't look up.

"I used to have an uncle…we wouldn't take his phone calls except for Thanksgiving. My dad felt like he had to make an effort on Thanksgiving, and every year it was a nightmare. I still hate that holiday."

Toby sighed. "Walter is your star, Cabe. I'm just one of the chorus girls. All of this is…unnecessary."

Cabe scooped part of an egg onto a corner of toast. "Okay. I get that. Walter has been my focus. He and I have history. I've known him since he was eleven years old. I hurt him and he was very important to me. Fixing that has been my priority. But it's become pretty clear to me that this team is greater than the sum of its parts. Nobody can do what you do. Or Happy. The same goes for Paige and Sylvester. We need to depend on each other."

Toby chewed on his food but said nothing.

"I'm curious, is all. I don't have your skills, but you have to know that a man in law enforcement isn't worth his salt unless he can read people. You're a contradiction- one I can't quite resolve."

"Say more."

Cabe rolled his eyes at the psychologist speak. "You graduate from Harvard medical school at 17. You have the skills to interact with people. I've seen you work. You could live in the real world. You understand us…'normals'. But instead, you choose to be a royal pain in the ass. My boss hates you because you play with him like a toy. I spend half my time convincing him not to jettison you off the team."

"Yup. I'm a human hemorrhoid." With only a quarter of the pancake eaten, Toby pushed it away. "The idea of the blueberry pancake is always better than the result. What do you want to know?"

"What happened?"

Toby narrowed his brown eyes. "It really matters to you?"

"You're the behaviorist. You tell me."

Toby sat back and stared at him, nestling his bad arm carefully against his stomach. "Imagine Thanksgiving with your uncle every day of the year. Her disease was profound. Manic for stretches of time and then deep depressions. 18 hospitalizations by the time I was 13- 7 of which were for suicide attempts. My dad was passive. He protected me to a point, but often he just took off, and left me alone to manage her mania at 3 in the morning."

"You escaped into school."

He shrugged. "It was the only place I could legally be other than home. I signed up for every afterschool program they had, but I wasn't a normal and it showed. I couldn't keep my mouth shut. My brain was my only weapon. I got beat up more at school than at home."

"How'd you get into Harvard?"

"I had a school counselor who cared. He figured it was the only way to keep me from heading to the streets. I knew I'd have to take a psychological to get in at such a young age so I figured out to answer the questions, and got in when I was 12. It got me out of the house, and the thing about being a kid at college is that nobody's trying to beat you up as long as you help them pass classes."

"You graduated with an M.D. at 17."

He shrugged. "Nobody wants a teen-age psychiatrist so I got a Clinical Psychology doctorate, and then they put me in research for a couple of years, but that was a disaster. I'm an adrenaline junkie and research is like watching paint dry."

"Yeah. I noticed that about you."

Toby gave him a long look. "I got a residency at Bellevue when I was 22. I figured that I found my home. I loved it all- the chaos, long hours, crazy people- it all made sense to me. It was a world I knew, and I was good at it. My diagnostic skills were unmatched, and my therapeutic skills really grew. On days off, I would go home and try to treat my mother. She loved that. It was like a game to her. I never got past go with her."

"Why aren't you the Chief of Psychiatry at Bellevue right now?"

He took a deep breath. "Walter doesn't even know this."

"He won't hear it from me."

"Five years in, and I never took a single vacation. It was Bellevue or home to work on her illness. I don't know what I was thinking."

"You burned out."

Toby chuckled. "The understatement of the year. I showed up one day for a 36 hour shift. I found my mom in the waiting room. It was a surprise, but I was glad she showed up. I admitted her and started her on a treatment plan. Two hours later, I was in the ER again, treating her. Then I found her on the fourth floor, and then in the cafeteria, and then I walked into the lobby and there were five of her. I started screaming. Full psychotic break. They admitted me and I didn't see sun for six months. The minute they released me, I skipped town."

"You're bipolar too?"

"I have tendencies but no. Still, my psyche is every bit as fragile as hers is."

"The gambling?"

"It soothes my demons."

"You were going to stop for Happy."

"I did it before for love. Worked for awhile."

"You feel safe with the team."

Toby closed his eyes. "They understand me and accept me as I am. I feel sane. I need them."

"Not being invited to dinner last night scared you. You were worried that things had changed."

"Alright," Toby lurched forward with a groan, and tried to ease himself out of the booth. "That's enough. I'll go wait with Roscoe in the car."

…..

Happy came at Cabe with a finger in the air. "When I text or call, you answer! You understand me!"

Ignoring her, Cabe put down two large bags and surveyed the room. He signaled to Ralph who was sitting in a chair. "I think it'll work in the corner. I'm going to need your help."

Walter came down the stairs and watched Cabe alongside Happy, Sylvester, and Paige.

"We've been worried about Toby. Is he okay?" Sylvester asked.

Cabe and Ralph headed for the corner of the room near Sylvester's desk, and pulled out wire fencing and fashioned it in a large circle on the concrete floor. He threw a bunch of newspapers in the center. Then he pulled out chicken feed and placed it on Sylvester's desk. "You're going to want to spread the newspaper around in there before we put him in. Probably going to need to be changed every day. You up for that?"

Ralph nodded and climbed into the makeshift pen. Cabe turned to the rest of them. "He's hurting in more ways than one. I'm bringing him here because he probably shouldn't be home alone, but today is not the day for scolding. He's on quite a bit of Vicodin. Okay?"

"Yeah," Walter said, his hands deep in his pockets. Happy crossed her arms tightly across her chest and bit her lip.

Sylvester stared at the pen. "He rescued a chicken, didn't he? I never had a pet."

"His name is Roscoe, and he's also had a hard night."

Ralph climbed out of the pen and headed for his backpack. Cabe went back to the door and ushered Toby and Roscoe in the door. Toby stood by the door while Cabe carefully put Roscoe's cage in the pen. "Let's give him a few minutes to acclimate before we let him out."

Toby looked around the room, and his eyes found Sylvester first. "I'm sorry, Sly. Never meant to hurt you."

Sylvester shrugged. "I'm not mad anymore. I know you're just trying to protect me, but my brother is a better person now and I'm going to be okay."

Toby looked at the floor. "I promised you all I wouldn't get involved with cockfights anymore, and I broke that promise. I'm sorry."

Walter stepped forward. "It's a really dangerous thing to do, Toby."

"I know."

Happy screwed up her mouth as she warred with her words. "Getting yourself killed…you gotta think about what that would do…to the rest of us."

He nodded. He felt a tug on his arm and looked at Ralph who thrust a piece of blue construction paper at him. "What's this?"

"It's a letter promising that I'll always be your friend, no matter what. No nights off. No exceptions. Okay?"

Toby blinked hard. "Wow. I never got a letter like that before. That's really great, Ralph. I promise the same to you."

Paige came over. "Hey, I bet you'd like to lie down."

He nodded.

She leaned over Ralph. "Go to the closet in the kitchen and grab a pillow and a blanket."

Paige stood up to help but Happy was there with her arm around his middle, guiding him to the battered red leather sofa. "You're an idiot, you know?"

"Yeah."

She eased him down. "But you're my idiot. You got that?"

He looked into her eyes. "Thank you."

…

Toby opened his eyes and the room was quiet save Roscoe pecking away at the metal bars of his pen. He started to move, but stiffness had set in from his bruised back and injured shoulder. He groaned in protest. He rocked himself gently until he had enough momentum to slide his legs off the couch and slip onto the floor. He leaned against the couch and blinked blurry eyes at Roscoe. "Hey buddy, how do you like your new digs?"

The bird responded with more pecking on the metal.

"When animals are confined without sufficient stimulation, they get compulsive, Roscoe. We need to find you a yard. You need space to roam. Maybe, a friend. Do you think we could socialize you with another bird?"

Roscoe ignored him.

"Yeah, well you think on it some. We'll talk more later." Toby leaned into the couch as he tried pull himself to his feet, but the combination of drugs and bruised muscle were too much for him and he slid back onto the ground with a thud. He moaned. "That could've gone better."

"Toby! What are you doing?"

He looked up and saw Walter on the stairs. "Where is everyone?"

Walter tried to hide a frown. "Drew took them to a game. He had a fistful of tickets. Cabe thought you could use the quiet. I stayed behind."

"You're getting more oppositional with him. That's not going to work out for you."

Walter knelt beside him and hooked him under his good arm. "Let's get you back on the couch."

Toby settled back into the cushions. "Don't make Paige or Ralph choose. They have more history with him."

"I'm not trying to do anything. Cabe says you're due for another vicodin."

"You like me better drugged up, don't you?"

Walter smiled. "It's easier to keep you out of trouble. I should tell you that Robert went to the game with them."

Toby sighed.

"You haven't seen him in years."

"I'm right about him."

"Cabe agrees, and I know that both of you are better at reading people than I am."

"I'll be careful this time. I know what's at stake for Sylvester."

Walter went to get him some water and a pill and sat next to him. "We work together on this, okay?"

"Then don't banish me again."

Walter nodded as Toby swallowed the pill. "We shouldn't have done that."

"Good. Let's move on."

The door opened and Ralph came running through. He headed straight for Roscoe. Walter looked at Paige who followed. "Game over already?"

"No. But Drew wasn't pitching and Ralph was worried that Roscoe might need him."

Happy came in and dropped on the couch next to Toby. "Are you better yet?"

He looked at her, eyes half-mast. "Give me 'til the end of the day."

"Where's your hat?"

He blinked at her. "My hat? You bought that hat. I need my hat."

Cabe chuckled. "You left it in the car."

"I'll go get it." Happy jumped up and Toby watched her disappear out the door.

"She's so lovely," he said to no one in particular.

Sylvester bounded in, smiling. "Happy said you're feeling better."

Toby nodded slowly. "I'm peachy."

"My brother's here. You okay with that?"

Toby took a deep breath. "Yeah."

Sylvester waved Robert in. The athletic version of Sylvester looked at Toby warily. "I heard you had a rough night."

"Yup. I hear you're the Mother Teresa of kidney transplants."

Robert smirked. "You don't believe I've changed, do you?"

"It doesn't matter what I believe. Sly is my friend. I'll always have his back. Be a good brother and we're going to be just fine."

"Then we're not going to have any problems, Toby. And by the way, his nickname is Syl, not Sly."

Toby screwed up his face. "What are you? The nickname police?"

Sylvester sensed the tension and dragged Robert away. "Let's go play a few games on Proton Arnold."

"You hear that?" He turned to Walter. "Already, he's competitive, feeling threatened."

"You weren't exactly welcoming," Paige whispered, one eye on Robert and Sylvester at the video game.

"What do you want me to say? Thanks for going two days without trying to involve your brother in a felony?"

Then Happy was there with his hat. "Take a breath, Doc. Remember what this means to Sly."

He closed his eyes and let out breath. "Okay."

Paige smiled. "Happy, you're the Toby whisperer."

Toby turned his attention to Roscoe and Ralph. The boy was on the ground stroking Roscoe's feathers. "He needs more room to roam. Room to roam. Room to roam. Say that three times really fast."

Happy nodded. "I could build a pen out back."

"In the shade," he said.

"Okay…I could add an over hang of some kind."

He leaned back against the couch and turned his head to her, smiling softly. "And a doggie door in case he wants to come in."

"How about a hot tub?" She said.

He shrugged. "No need. A nice bucket of water should be fine."

She rolled her eyes. "You're hilarious."

He leaned over until his head was resting on her shoulder. "I love you."

"You're crazy, Doc."

"And medicated," he said as his eyes closed.

…..


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry, it's been two weeks since an update. Things are moving pretty fast in my life these days. I finished my dissertation and have to be ready to defend. Plus, school is crazy busy. But I think there is a story worth telling here with Toby and Sylvester and the gang. I'm glad for every reader I can get. Thanks, Sheila

**The Rooster**

Sunlight came in when she opened the door and he looked up. There was a natural instinct to want to get up and assist, but he resisted the urge. He knew she was strong despite that braces she needed for walking.

"Hey good lookin'!"

"Toby, how you are doing? I hear you had kind of an exciting week."

"Yeah." He struggled to control the blush burning into his cheeks.

"How's the shoulder?" She pointed a brace at his sling.

"It's better."

"Where is everyone?"

He nodded at the stairs. "They're doing a flight simulation up there. We're playing NTSB today."

"Excuse me." She cocked her head.

"National Transportation Safety Board. We're reviewing a jet crash for the Air Force. Trying to determine if it was pilot error or not."

"Why aren't you up there?"

"I'm reviewing the psych profiles on the pilots."

"Why don't you just talk to them?"

He looked at her with hangdog eyes. "They died."

"Oh." She sat down carefully. "Sorry."

He got up. "Let me go get someone. You here for Walter or Sylvester?"

"Walter. He wants to test my range of motion for his research."

"I'll get him." He started toward the stairs.

"Hey Toby, can you slow down?"

He stopped and turned. "What's going on?"

"Can we talk?"

She was such a warm person that it amazed Toby that she and Walter shared genes. "Yeah. Can I get you anything? Thirsty?"

She smiled. "Sit down, Toby. Why are you always so nervous around me?"

"You trigger my insecurities," he responded automatically. "You're a really good person. You have a good soul. I'm a corrupter. Best for people like you to steer clear of people like me."

She laughed. "You don't hold anything back."

He sat down. "It's the only way I can protect myself and those around me. I have to be me, and you have to know what comes along with that."

"You don't hide from Sylvester. He's got the most gentle soul I've ever known."

He froze for a moment searching for a response. "I can't with Sylvester. I consider him family. You don't choose family. I try to be a good influence. I know I'm not most of the time, but I really try."

"I think you're a good person."

"Thank you."

"And I think Sylvester is lucky to have you watching his back."

Toby bit back a smile. "You've got to hang out here more often. Have you met Robert?"

She nodded.

"And what do you think?"

"I think he has secrets."

"Maybe you should have my job," he said.

"Too trusting. Just like Sylvester. You're better than anyone at this. Toby, he knows you're doing what you think is best. He's scared you're right. He doesn't want you to be."

"I know."

"What if we just let Sylvester work it out? Trust him to do what's right?"

He nodded. "Last time Robert was here, he left Syl holding the bag. He was facing ten years in the pen. Picture Sylvester trying to survive the exercise yard on a daily basis."

She closed her eyes. "Enough."

"Hey Megan, I'll be right down."

She swiveled her head and nodded to her brother as he disappeared back up the stairs. Then she turned back to Toby. "I know you'd do anything for him. He knows that too."

Toby nodded and got up. "I got a bird out back. Roscoe. I probably better check on him."

…..

He sat on the hot concrete cross-legged and watched Roscoe patrol his pen. Happy gave him lots of fencing and good shade. Cabe had brought in straw from somewhere and spread it around the ground. When he came out, he dropped ice cubes in the tub of water hoping to keep it cool for the bird. It was a pretty nice setup for a washed up cock fighter, but Toby wasn't satisfied. Roscoe needed a farm- one that could handle the needs of a fighting bird. He'd been doing research and there weren't many groups trying to rehabilitate birds like Roscoe, and the ones that were had long waiting lists.

The bird was a fish out of water, making due in a makeshift pen in the heart of downtown L.A. It was a condition that Toby understood. They all did. It's what brought them together, and why it would hurt so much if the cyclone didn't work. He thought about all that as he pushed bread crumbs through the wire at Roscoe's persistent beak.

"Hey Toby."

Toby looked up and saw Syl standing there, his hands deep in his pockets. "Hey."

"Walter wants to know if you think the pilot panicked when the left fuselage caught fire."

"I think the Dali Lama would've panicked under those circumstances. The question is whether or not he went through his emergency checklist in the right order."

"Do you think he did?"

"No, I do not."

Sylvester shook his head. "That's a lot to know about a person without knowing a person."

"It's what I do."

"Yeah." He rocked back and forth on his heels.

"Something on your mind?"

He shrugged. "You've always been the one I go to when I need advice about certain things."

"I'm right here."

"This time I don't think you're the right guy to talk to about this."

"Because it's about Robert."

"You're right a lot of the time, Toby, but not every time. I don't want you to be right about him."

"I know."

Sylvester stood there for a long moment. "I think this time I'm going to have to work it out on my own."

Toby shook his head in frustration. "If you can't talk to me, talk to someone else. Try Cabe. I mean, he was good with me after this last…mishap."

"He's a federal agent."

Toby jumped to his feet. "Exactly! This is what makes me nervous. Robert wants your help again, doesn't he? He wants you to do something illegal."

Sylvester backed up. "I can handle it, Toby. I'm not a little kid. I can figure this out."

"What? What does he want from you?"

Sylvester frowned and then shook his head sharply, walking back into the building.

…..

Robert opened the door smiling wide. "Hey Bro! Great surprise!"

Sylvester accepted his warm embrace. "What are you doing?"

Robert gestured at the laptop on the hotel bed. "Working, Syl. I'm trying to make connections. But it's hard to break into the market on the West Coast. It's all about who you know."

Sylvester nodded and sat down. "You can do it. I really have faith in you."

"That's sweet, Syl, but that's not how it works in the real world."

"Yeah, I guess."

Robert looked at him. "Syl, have you thought about what we talked about?"

"Yeah." Sylvester stiffened. "I don't want to do it. Deception isn't healthy. It isn't right."

Robert sat on the end of the bed. "This is about saving lives. You aren't going to be hurting anyone."

"It's a protected list. I would have to hack the kidney donor registry to get it. You would have the names of all of the people in California waiting for a kidney. It's a felony."

"Yeah, but no one will know. You are that good."

"That's not the point. I don't want to be duplicitous. And I thought you wanted the same thing. I thought reconnecting was about you showing me that you'd changed."

Robert hung his head and Sylvester could see the tension in his hands. "You don't understand, Bro. I don't have time to plan games with you. You got this talent, and you're not generous with it. It hurts, man. It hurts."

"Is it money? Is the hotel too expensive? Come stay with me. We'll hang out." Sylvester felt like something was slipping away.

Robert shook his head. "You're a genius, and I can't make you understand one very simple thing. So much is riding on this…you have no idea."

"I want to help."

"No, Bro, you don't want to help. You want to be superior just like you've always been. I'm your brother and I need this very simple thing."

Sylvester stood, feeling breathless. "This is just like last time."

Robert got to the door before him. "Syl, I promise you that this is nothing like last time. I'm legit this time. You just don't understand the pressures I'm facing right now."

"Tell me. I need to know. If you tell me, I'll know what to do."

Robert put hands on Sylvester's shoulders and took a deep breath. "People are dying because they don't have access to the right equipment. I can change that. For the first time in my life, I can do something that helps people. It's my chance to do something good. Don't you see that?"

Sylvester nodded. "I have friends. Connections. We're with Homeland. Maybe, we can get the list through Agent Cabe. Once he hears what's going on, he'll want to help."

Robert shook his head slowly. "No. You promised me you'd never tell anyone what we talked about. I'm holding you to that. It's you and me, Syl. You don't help me in the way that I asked, and I'll never see you again."

"Robert." Sylvester studied his brother's face. "Don't say that."

"I meant it. We do this my way or I'm gone. This is my last chance. You have no idea how important this is to me."

Sylvester looked down, and Robert patted his cheek. "I need this. I need this more than you can understand. Please be my brother, Syl. Please."

He nodded. "I'll do it tomorrow."

"Email it to me."

"It's too sensitive. I'll put it on a drive. We're having dinner tomorrow night with Megan and Walter. I'll give it to you then."

"I need it sooner, Syl."

Sylvester pulled away. "That's the best I can do, Robert. I have a lot of thinking to do."

Sylvester was a big man, but he was quick when he needed to be, and he was out the door before Robert could press him further.

…

The tension built throughout the afternoon. Toby could see it like a cloud over the room, and it amazed him sometimes how the people around him couldn't see it like he did. Paige knew something was up. She was part empath. He once tried calling her Deanna Troi before he realized she had no idea the reference. He still thought about finding a used box set of the Next Generation for her birthday. He loved the idea of gifts with meaning.

And so the cloud grew over the room while Sylvester sat and agonized over a decision he refused to share. Toby had to play it cool. Sylvester tensed whenever he caught his eye. There was a flash drive in his hand that he kept playing with, and Toby pretended not to notice. Toby knew Sylvester had to war over this on his own, and so while he stayed near, he kept his eyes on Freud's seminal text- the most soothing reading in his entire library.

The smell of baking had started about an hour earlier, and Toby knew that Paige was going to approach Sylvester through his stomach. He suspected it was going to be a miss but he couldn't blame her for trying.

"Hey Sly, I made cookies." Paige approached the big man with a smile.

He looked up from his computer and shook his head. "No, thanks."

"Chocolate chip pistachio. Your favorite."

He furrowed his brow. "I said no!"

Cabe and Walter stopped talking and stared. Happy slammed a wrench on the table. "Hey! She made you cookies, dude! What do you say when someone does that?"

Sly blinked. "My apologies. Thank you. Of course. I wasn't thinking. I'm just not hungry."

Toby looked at Happy. "You're going to be such a wonderful mother to our children."

Happy rolled her eyes and returned to her work.

Sylvester stood up. "I gotta go."

"Where you going, Sly?"

"I have a dinner tonight with Megan and Robert at the hotel."

Toby nodded at the clock. "It's only 3:00 in the afternoon. You got plenty of time. Besides, Walt here can ride with you."

Sly furrowed his brow. "I asked Walter yesterday and he said he wasn't coming out with us."

"Naw. I talked to him this morning. Turns out he wants to go."

Walter frowned. "What? We never—"

Cabe squeezed his arm. "I heard you say it too, Walter. It's okay. You can take a night off. There's not much left to do on this project."

"Uh, I guess."

"You remember what I suggested?"

Walter looked at Toby. "Uh, no I do not."

"I told you to ask Paige. I mean, you owe her a dinner, and Megan doesn't want to be the only female with three guys. You never asked her, did ya'."

Walter blinked. "I did not."

Paige watched the whole improvisation with her mouth open.

"Well, ask her, Walt!"

"Paige," he stammered. "Uh…would you like to go out to dinner with me and Sylvester?"

"Um, I would but I…what about Ralph?"

Toby chirped. "Happy will babysit."

Her dark head shot up from her project. "She will not!"

"Don't worry," Toby said. "We'll work it out."

"Well, I guess that's settled." Cabe clapped his hands. "Sly, why don't you wait and go with Paige and Walter."

Sylvester looked confused. "What?"

Paige smiled. "We can all drive together."

"No, I can't. I promised Robert I would meet him first. Alone."

Toby kept his eyes on the flash drive Sly kept fingering. "Okay buddy, you do what you gotta do."

"Yeah." Sylvester headed for the door. He stopped and closed his eyes. Then he turned around, headed for his desk, dropped the flash drive in a drawer, and left. After the door closed, Toby let out a deep sigh.

"What just happened?" Walter said throwing his hands up.

Cabe sat down. "Fill us in, Toby."

"It's on the flash drive. Robert must have asked him for something. He's been struggling over it all day long. He made the right decision."

Walter grimaced. "Are you sure?"

Toby nodded.

"So, why are Paige and I going out to dinner?"

"Robert is going to go ballastic over this. He's been trying to manipulate Sylvester for days. He's going to put a lot on pressure on him. I just think you should be there. Walter, you represent integrity for him. That'll help. Paige can read him better than you can. You need her to tell you what you're dealing with tonight."

Happy got up and headed for Sly's desk. She pulled the flash drive out of his drawer and headed for her computer. Toby watched her. "Whoa, baby. What are you up to?"

She turned her head. "You just call me baby?"

"Let's focus on what you're doing, Miss Quinn."

"I'm going to find out what the hell is going on," she said.

"Don't do it," he said softly.

She screwed up her face. "We're just guessing. Let's find out the truth."

Walter shook his head. "Toby's right. We can't invade his privacy. It would really hurt him."

"I hurt him enough for one week, don't you think?" Toby said.

"You didn't mean to," Paige said.

"I'm done guessing!" Happy slapped the flash drive down on the table.

Cabe smiled. "I wouldn't mind invading Robert's privacy."

"Me neither."

Happy smiled. "Let's do it."

Toby nodded. "We have to break into his room while you guys are downstairs eating."

"Who's we?" Paige had her hands on her hips. "Ralph is not going to be part of anything illegal, people."

"Well, I—"

Happy shook her head. "You're staying here, Doc."

"No! I can see things. I want to see what's in his room."

"We'll take pictures," Cabe said. "You're still bruised up in more ways than one. You get to babysit, pal."

"What?!"

…..

"You were supposed to meet me before dinner."

Sylvester looked up from his pasta. "Robert, we can talk about this later. We're eating with guests."

Even Walter could feel the tension.

"I thought we were starting fresh, little brother."

Megan put her hand on Sly's. "Hey guys, let's not fight. Let's just have a nice dinner."

Robert shook his head. "I needed you. You have no idea how badly I needed you."

Sylvester swallowed wine and stayed focused on his plate. "I couldn't make it. You just have to understand that, Robert."

Paige studied them carefully. "It's always hard with siblings, isn't it? You love each other like crazy, but sometimes, you just drive each other crazy. Right, Walter? I'm sure you and Megan have your moments."

Walter frowned. "No, not really."

"Of course!" Megan said, catching Paige's eye. "We have our moments. You certainly didn't enjoy bailing me out of jail a few months back."

Walter saw that both women required some sort of shift in his thinking. "Okay. A valid point."

Robert reached for the bottle of wine. "Alright. So, it is what it is. We all have to do what we have to, little brother. I'm sure glad you're buying dinner 'cause I'm going to order a helluva lot more wine."

…

Happy sat cross legged on the bed with Robert's computer in her lap. Cabe stood at the doorway. "Hurry it up! If Sylvester's brother leaves the table, he'll be able to get up here in less than two minutes. Doesn't give us much time to get out of here."

She gave him a look. "His laptop is full of weird firewalls. No sense of order. They're just random. Downloading his hard drive is going to take a few more minutes."

"I thought he wasn't a genius."

"He's not. That's the problem. There's no logic here. Just crap. Takes a bit to sift through it."

"Sift faster. If we get caught doing this, I got no backup explanation. No case to hang this on."

She frowned at the machine. "I wish the doc was here. He knows how I work. He's a lot of things but at least he isn't some nervous bureaucrat worried about his pension."

Cabe sighed. "You're right. You and I got no rhythm as a team, but if I lose my job over this, just know that your couch becomes my new home."

She looked at the ceiling and sighed. "Joy."

….

Roscoe perched on Walter's worktable and gobbled at the seed Ralph put down for him. Toby crouched next to him. "He's made the connection. He pecks at the sleeve of your shirt and you give him feed. Put your arm out again and wait."

Ralph did, and the rangy bird bobbed his head about impatiently. "He's not doing it."

"Be patient. He needs to think about it again."

Roscoe strutted about for a moment, making impatient noises in his throat. Ralph looked at Toby. "He's hungry."

"Give it a minute. Trust me."

Ralph focused on Roscoe. "Come on, Roscoe."

The bird bobbed his head, and then suddenly surged forward and pecked at his sleeve.

"Treat!" Toby said and Ralph slid a handful toward the bird. Roscoe gobbled at the seed in his hand.

"Good job!" Toby said squeezing Ralph's shoulder. There was something about the kid that was effortless for him. It felt good to give him the warmth he'd been long denied by his own father. And Ralph liked him with the guileless ease that children possessed. It made Toby want to be a part of good things just so he could deserve the love Ralph showed him.

"What else are we going to teach him tonight?"

"Patience, young Skywalker. Let's get Roscoe confident in this skill before we introduce something new."

Ralph bit his lip. "Are we keeping him forever?"

Toby knelt next to him awkwardly swallowing a moan as his bruised muscles settled onto the ground. "I don't know the answer, Ralph. We're doing good with him, but it's not the same for him as being on a farm, you know. Here it's concrete and cars. He's a bird, and I can't help thinking that he deserves some fresh country air."

Ralph pulled Roscoe off the table and sat next to Toby. "Maybe, he doesn't miss it. Maybe, he doesn't remember."

"Yeah, I don't think he remembers either, Ralph. It's complicated. We know that there's something out there that fits who he is better than we can. I think he might want that more than he wants us. He probably isn't going to get too attached to us- not like we will with him."

"I want to keep him."

Toby felt the emotion rise in the boy, and it reminded him of how lonely being a genius can be. "Let's make a deal. Roscoe doesn't go anywhere without you and I both agreeing it's the right decision."

"Fist bump?"

"Definitely," Toby said giving Ralph a solid bump.

The sound of breaking glass startled both of them, and Toby struggled to his feet, hissing. "Stay here, Ralph!"

He got to the top of the stairs, and saw a man climb through the window downstairs and run to unlock the door. He backed up slowly, turned, and put his finger to his mouth for Ralph. The boy, eyes wide, gathered Roscoe in his arms and crouched quietly. Toby looked around the room and saw the cabinets in back. They were large, and Ralph would fit inside easily. The thick concrete floor echoed no noise as he stepped lightly over to Ralph. He slung Ralph and Roscoe under his good arm and moved to the back of the room where it was darker. He wouldn't risk opening a cabinet unless there was no choice.

Downstairs, there were sounds. Several men were in the garage now. Toby counted four voices. They weren't very organized, and at first, it sounded like a run of the mill burglary. Then one of the men said, "Grab all the computers. Garza said that we take all of the computers, not just the big man's."

Toby's breath caught. Big man had to be Sly.

"We don't got no skills to get into them, man."

"That's Garza's problem, puto. Just grab 'em and then we call Garza. If he wants the big man too, we know exactamente where he is."

Toby felt for his phone, but it wasn't in his pocket. He remembered that he'd left it on his desk, and he cursed himself for his never ending string of bad habits.

Roscoe took that moment to protest the tight grip Ralph had on him with a gargled cry.

"What is that noise?!"

Toby heard the men scrambling around in search of the sound. He took that moment to open the cabinet and shove Ralph inside. The boy was scared but silent even when Toby pried Roscoe out of his hands. He couldn't risk more noises out of the bird. He touched Ralph's face in reassurance and then closed the cabinet.

He heard boots on stairs and straightened up. He pitched Roscoe to the top of the cabinet, and then moved toward the stairs, saying loudly, "What's the hell's going on down there? That better not be you, Cabe! I told you to be quiet when you got back. I need some damn rest up here!"

…

TBC


End file.
